Safe and lonely is better than dead, I reminded myself. But for the first time, it hit me how truly depressing my life’s motto was.
6
Liam
Itightened my grip on the items in my hand, ignoring the voice in my head telling me I was an idiot. I was simply trying to make amends. And, yes, maybe it was partly because the two times I’d encountered Tessa were the only moments in recent memory I’d had even the faintest flicker of the musical muse that used to flow so freely. I was desperate to have it back. And Tessa…she was a song in the making.
I readjusted my ballcap as I strode up the walkway to The Tea Kettle. Hopefully, she was working. Pushing open the door, I inhaled deeply and almost moaned. My stomach growled.
Jensen looked up from the counter at the sound of the bell. “Back so soon? Our baked goods must have made you a convert.”
I patted my stomach. “I couldn’t stay away.” I scanned the small café. There were a couple of older gentlemen playing cards in the corner and a woman with a small child on the opposite side of the space. I could most likely go unnoticed here for a little while at least. “Do you mind if I hang out here and work for a bit? The silence at the cabin was getting to be a little much.”
“As long as you make a purchase or two, you can stay as long as you’d like. Though I should warn you, we get an influx of teenage girls around three-thirty.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.” I’d get gone by then. I moved towards the bakery case. “And I don’t think I’ll have any problem with the purchases.” I tapped the fingers of my free hand against the glass case. “Let’s start out with a ham and cheddar scone, a marionberry muffin, and one of those peanut butter cookies.”
Jensen let out a choked laugh. “Start out with?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll be hungry again in another hour or so.”
Jensen continued to chuckle as she pulled the items from the case. “You’re my new favorite customer. Can I get you any tea to go with that?”
I grimaced. “How about a bottle of water?”
Jensen set the plate of baked goods on the counter. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“Maybe another time,” I hedged, pulling my wallet from my pocket.
“I’ll hold you to that.” She punched a few keys on the register. “That’ll be $12.50.”
My gaze caught on movement in the back kitchen. A figure with a dark brown braid down her back reached up on her tiptoes to grab something off a shelf. Tessa was all long, lean lines, and she was focused in her practiced rhythm, a dance around the space that she knew by heart.
A throat cleared, and my gaze jumped back to Jensen. “Sorry, what’d you say?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly on me, the look somewhere in between curiosity and a warning. “That’ll be $12.50.”
I pulled out a twenty. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks.”
Taking the plate and bottle of water, I surveyed my table options. I opted for one that gave me a line of sight into the kitchen but not the one that was directly in front of it—not overly obvious. I set everything down on the weathered wooden surface. I pushed my snacks to one side and the water to the other, making room for my worn and battered notebook.
This thing had been through battles with me, including being thrown against a wall or two lately. It housed songs from more than two albums and dozens of tunes that hadn’t made the cut. As well as some random thoughts that might turn into lyrics, single lines that needed to find a home, and some really crappy doodles.
I opened to a blank page. The emptiness of it seemed to mock me. I ignored the insult and glanced towards the kitchen. Tessa was removing what looked like cookies from a baking sheet and placing them on a cooling rack.What is her story?
I glanced down at the tin of drawing charcoal I’d made a special trip into the nearest city to get. Tessa snapping the piece she’d held in her hand flashed in my mind. I’d scared her. That kind of thing happened. Anyone could be startled under the right circumstances. But something told me there was more at play here.
I let my mind drift as I watched her move about the kitchen. Words flew through my brain. Just single pieces of text at first, and then slightly longer strings. I jotted everything down, not allowing myself to judge it, just letting the words fly. When I looked up again, my muse was offering Jensen a plate.
Jensen studied the assortment of baked goods. “Why don’t you let Liam and the bridge club play taste-testers?” she asked, inclining her head towards me and the older gentlemen sitting behind me.
Tessa stiffened at the request, her gaze flicking to me and then back to Jensen. “Sure.”
Clearly, I had fucked up with this girl. I really hoped I could make things right, and not just because she seemed to be my last hope of reclaiming my musical muse. I gave Tessa my best I-really-am-a-nice-guy-even-though-I’ve-scared-the-shit-out-of-you-twice smile, or what I thought that smile should look like.
Tessa made her way towards me and extended the plate. “I’m trying a few new cookie recipes. Would you like to try them and tell me what you like best?”
